Cocked And Loaded

by Desiree Holt

  * * *

  The Wild Rose Press

  www.thewildrosepress.com

  Copyright ©2009 by Desiree Holt

  * * *

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Cocked And Loaded

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  About the author...

  Also available

  Chapter One

  * * * *

  Dirty money, cold-blooded murder,

  and deadly secrets...

  Zane blinked to focus and never saw her hand coming as she delivered a stinging slap. He grabbed her wrist as she drew back for another blow. “Do that again, and I'll turn you over my knee."

  Her eyes smoldered. “You'd love that, wouldn't you? Even way back then you wanted to push the envelope with sex. I'll bet you've learned a lot of new tricks since then."

  He yanked her up against his body, holding her in an iron grip. “I don't remember you running away screaming."

  "I might shoot you this time, lawman. Just because you piss me off."

  They stared at each other for a long moment before he let her go.

  She backed away, rubbing her wrists, her eyes stabbing at him like daggers. “Get the hell out of my house. And stay away. It'll take a lot more than your macho swagger to run me off."

  "We aren't done, Jamie. Not by a long shot. Keep that in mind."

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Desiree Holt

  AND HER BOOKS

  "Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last. If you're new to erotica, please check out this wickedly talented author."

  ~Romance Junkies

  "I can't wait to read another story from Desiree Holt."

  ~Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  DO YOU TRUST ME?

  "This thriller grabs you from the first paragraph and doesn't let go until the satisfying ending. Espionage coupled with BDSM makes for one titillating ride. Secondary characters enhance the action and add to the suspense."

  ~Donna M. Brown, Romantic Times, 4.5 stars

  GIVE IT TO ME

  "Looking for a quick read you can dive right into? Do yourself a favor and read Give It To Me. Holt delivers with delicious love scenes, a believable story and characters you care about. A perfect combination of wit, sexuality, experimentation and romance. It's over way too soon!"

  ~Romantic Times, 4.5 stars

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Cocked And Loaded

  by

  Desiree Holt

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cocked And Loaded

  COPYRIGHT ©

  2009 by Desiree Holt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, September 2009

  Print ISBN 1-60154-712-9

  Published in the United States of America

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  To the Muses, who gave me the courage to try.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  Zane Cameron stared at the figure walking out of the supermarket. He lifted his sunglasses just to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. When he heard she'd showed up two days ago, he was sure someone was pulling his leg. But no, there she was. Jamie Randall. Big as life. Not even a hint of shame or embarrassment for either her leave-taking or her current situation.

  The last time Zane saw her she was a flowering eighteen-year-old who'd teased him with her body, then left town so fast her heels kicked up a cloud of dust. All she left behind was a drunk for a father and stinging words for Zane. And, of course, a bitterness and resentment that built up in him all these years.

  Now here she was again and he smelled big trouble.

  He watched her wheel her cart to her shiny dark blue SUV. A symbol of her ill-gotten success. The worn jeans and old Texas Tech T-shirt were little camouflage for what had become a lush, ripe body. Thick blue-black hair pulled back in a ponytail bounced as she moved. Huge sunglasses barely concealed the tight set of her face. And where he'd expected her walk to still be graceful and tempting, now it was purposeful and angry.

  Five feet four inches of sexual dynamite that he hoped wouldn't blow up in his face.

  No one could miss the fact that Jamie was mad at the world, both about being home and the circumstances that brought her here. Well, no madder than he was at the way she'd left, despite everything between them. Or everything he'd thought was between them.

  She loaded the groceries into the truck, climbed in, and slammed the door. He didn't need to follow her as she roared out onto the highway. He knew exactly where she was going. What he needed to do was get his anger under control, the rage that always bubbled up whenever he thought of her. A rage heavily colored with lust. In twelve years, that feeling had built itself to quite a level.

  Get over it. She wasn't worth it then and she's not worth it now.

  So why, after all these years, did his traitorous dick still get hard whenever he remembered her naked body? Why did his hands twitch, remembering the feel of her young breasts in them? His nose still remembered the scent of roses and honeysuckle in her hair. His mouth, the taste of her tempting juices. One would think by this time he'd have himself under control.

  Except Jamie Randall was like a festering sore inside him, one he needed to lance and get rid of, once and for all.

  All these years, he'd been able to deal with the way she'd just flat out left him because she'd been far away in a different life. But to see her every day now, to know the contempt she'd held him in, would be an impossible situation.

  No way was she coming back to Amen, Texas and twitching her ass in front of his face. She left town once. He planned to make sure she did it again. Jamie Randall would have to leave whether she wanted to or not. Only this time it would be on his terms and not until he'd satisfied a twelve-year-old itch.

  Easier said than done, cowboy.

  He cranked the engine a litt
le too hard, and pulled away from the curb, heading out on the dusty highway. She should be home by now. There was no time like the present to get on with business, but it wasn't business he was looking forward to.

  All the way to the scrubby patch of land her father had left her, Zane talked to himself. Face her. Get it over with. Move on.

  The caliche driveway leading to the old Randall house was potholed and bumpy, a sign of long neglect. The house itself was a reflection of the man who'd lived there, alone. Decaying, rotting away, making a pretense at something but not quite pulling it off.

  He pulled the department's big Expedition in behind Jamie's smaller SUV and cut the ignition. As tiny as Amen was, he hadn't been in this house since Jamie left town. He didn't even want to go there now, but the whole mess from the past was like dry toast stuck in his throat.

  Suck it up, man. Speak your piece and get it over with.

  Taking his time, he climbed out of the car and walked up the cracked cement path. The inside door stood open and, through the screen door, he could see her moving around in the kitchen. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hand and knocked on the wood door frame.

  "Go away.” The words had a harsh bite to them. “No curiosity seekers allowed today."

  Zane cleared his throat. “Jamie, it's Zane Cameron."

  She froze in place, then turned in his direction. For a moment, he wasn't sure she'd even come to the door. Finally, she padded over the wood floor on bare feet, slowly, not rushing. He guessed she wasn't any more anxious for this meeting than he was.

  "Well, well,” she drawled. “Nice of you to drop by, Sheriff. Did you come to arrest me?"

  "I came to talk to you. How about letting me in?"

  She shook her head, the tight, angry look still on her face. “I don't think so. I'm in no mood to play Twenty Questions today."

  "Damn it, Jamie. Open this door.” He pulled, but the door was latched on the inside.

  "Go away. I can't think of anything we have to say to each other."

  "Oh, I have plenty to say. Open the damn door, or I'll break it down."

  Nice going, asshole. Smooth.

  She stared at him through the screen. Then he heard the snick of the latch being released and she stepped back to allow him to enter.

  "Okay.” She posed arrogantly in front of him, hands planted on her hips, mouth in a thin line. “Say what you came to say and get the fuck out of here."

  It was obvious she'd been working. A few wisps of her hair had straggled loose from her ponytail, clinging to her cheeks like threads of fine silk. A smudge of dirt decorated her straight nose, and a thin scratch marred the smooth, tanned skin of her slim forearm. As unglamorous as a woman could look, yet somehow, she was more tempting than if she'd been wearing a slinky dress and high heels.

  Zane had to resist the urge to stare at her breasts, outlined by the soft T-shirt material. Mature Jamie Randall's breasts were making his mouth water and his palms itch. But they also made his dick want to stand at attention again so he shut down his mind. All he needed was an erection right now. Then again, maybe that was exactly what he needed. “Nice language you've learned since you've been gone."

  "That's not all I've learned.” Her blue eyes, the color deepening to navy, flashed. The thick lashes framing them only enhanced the intensity of her fury. She was like a time bomb set to go off. “Anyway, pardon my lack of social graces, but I'm not in a very good mood right now. I don't have the patience to take crap from anyone, so what is it you want?"

  "I came to find out why you're here in this, let's see, what did you call it?” He frowned. “Oh, yeah. ‘Godforsaken town you'd never spit on again.'” His pent-up anger, stored away all these years, wanted to rise up and overtake him.

  "Well, we can't all make the choices we'd like to.” Jamie's gaze swept over his face, studying him. “So. I'll ask you again. Why are you really here? You trying to run me out of town, Sheriff?” She spat out the last word as if it had a bad taste to it.

  "Seems to me the last time you and I had a conversation, I distinctly remember you saying you wouldn't come back to Amen unless hell froze over.” His eyes never wavered from hers. “Must be mighty cold down there right about now."

  And that's how cold it would be before she threw her lot in with him, she'd told him. Twelve years ago he was just the half-breed son of a man always in trouble. She'd been willing to fuck him all right—fuck the half-breed with the legendary dick—but then it was adios.

  He waited for her to comment, but she stood there, silent, vibrating with anger. Her nipples pushed stiffly against the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and a pulse beat heavily at her throat. Sex and anger. Two sides of the same coin. He had to suppress an urge to rip off her clothes and run his hands over that now-adult body. Time hadn't diminished one bit of the lust he felt for her. Damn it.

  At last she shook her head and took a step back. “If you came for all the sordid details of my fall from grace, you wasted your time. Read the newspapers. They had plenty to say. So is that it? Are we done?"

  "Not by half.” He moved closer to her. “You're damn straight I want to know why you're here and when you're leaving. I can't believe this is some big homecoming for you."

  Yes, when will you get out of my life again and leave me to my accustomed misery?

  "Well.” Her voice was bitter. “You don't mince any words, do you?"

  More silence. He forced himself to outwait her.

  "Why the hell do you think I'm here? I guess I'm lucky my drunk of a father got himself killed and left me this worthless piece of property. Which is a damn good thing since, at the moment, it seems I have no place else to go.” She stuck out her chin in defiance. “Why? Are you planning to run me off?"

  Yes, if I could. But first I'm going to fuck your brains out the way I've wanted to do all these years since you ran from me. This time you'll take more than a little taste of the half-breed Zane Cameron with you.

  He shifted his weight. “Just trying to keep up with what's going on in my little corner of the world. I heard you were living in some fancy condo in Florida."

  "Why, Sheriff,” she drawled. “I didn't know you kept up with my activities."

  Gritting his teeth, he barely held onto his temper. “We have a newspaper here in Amen, in case you forgot. And surprise, surprise. I have a computer and know how to use it."

  "Oh. Well, then.” She unclenched her fists and shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. “I'm sure you read all about my big scandal and just salivated over my fall from grace.” Her voice had a spiteful quality to it.

  "We don't get that much to talk about here in Amen,” he retorted, determined to give it right back to her. “Local girl makes bad is a hot topic of conversation."

  She stared at him again, then turned to walk toward the kitchen. “Coffee should be ready now. If you're going to grill me, you might as well have a cup."

  He hated the fact that the movement of her hips still mesmerized him and his fingers curled with the remembrance of touch. Common sense told him to refuse the coffee and get the hell out of there. Forget about anything but staying away from her. But then, he'd had plenty of times when he and common sense didn't even shake hands.

  He distracted himself while waiting by glancing at his surroundings. The inside of the house didn't look any better than the outside. Scarred wood floor. Walls covered in grimy paint without a picture or anything to relieve the depressing sight. Furniture worn down to the bare bones. Dust everywhere.

  He spotted the cleaning supplies on the chipped Formica counter. She'd need a lot more than soap and disinfectant to make this place habitable. And no matter how much she scrubbed, she'd never get the stink of whiskey or the dark presence of her miserable father out of it.

  "So,” her voice broke into his train of thought. “Tell me.” She was busy taking chipped mugs out of a cupboard and filling them. “How did someone like you end up sheriff of Diablo County? I thought for sure you'd be on the inside of the jail look
ing out."

  Zane's gut clenched and bile rose in the back of his throat. “You mean, how did the good citizens manage to elect a half-breed to keep the peace? Maybe they figured I could run around with my tomahawk and scalp anyone who pissed me off."

  "Damn it, Zane.” She whirled, her eyes burning into him like wildfire. “That's not what I meant at all."

  "Oh, no?” he challenged. “You made it very plain when you left here that I had nothing to offer you. Me and my kind, you said. No mistaking your words. You couldn't get away from me and Amen fast enough."

  "Is that what you thought? Well, you're wrong. The only one ever sensitive about your Comanche blood was you. That had nothing to do with my reasons for walking away from you."

  "Yeah, right. Your alcohol-rotted father couldn't have made it any plainer. And you were right there with him when he made his little speech."

  "One loser was the same as another to me. No matter what he said, I wasn't talking about just you but all the losers in this stinkhole. Your heritage had nothing to do with it, and you damn well should have known it.” She poured the hot liquid into the mugs.

  "Should I?” He accepted the mug she handed him. Their fingers brushed, and he had to work to control the shock at the electricity the brief contact generated. Oh, god, this was worse than he thought.

  "Anyway, that wasn't the reason I asked the question. I just want to know how someone wilder than the wind ends up as a lawman."

  His face hardened. “We all change, Jamie. You certainly did."

  Her laugh was like ice falling on glass, not tinkling but chilling. “So this call is really all about my recent notoriety, right? Well, here's the long and short of it. I've joined a very elite group of reporters who got scammed and drummed out of the corps. Lawsuits and legal fees broke me, and the condo was the first thing to go. I'm back here because I have no other choice.” Her mouth twisted in a caricature of a smile. “Does that give you the satisfaction you were looking for, lawman?"

  "Listen, Jamie—"

  "I'll bet you've read every story about my firing, all about how I've been blackballed in the industry, and enjoyed the hell out of it. Right?” She took a healthy swallow of coffee, grimacing as she realized how hot it still was. “But that's okay, Zane. You can join a very big crowd.” She watched him over the rim of her mug. “Listen, I've got stuff to do so say what you came to say and get out."